


Hallelujah

by fangirl2013



Series: The White Queen Tumblr Prompts [14]
Category: The White Queen (TV)
Genre: Angst, Death, F/M, Halleujah, Song fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 09:31:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4661595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl2013/pseuds/fangirl2013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Maybe there's a god above,<br/>But all I've ever learnt from love was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you.<br/>And it's not your cry that I hear at night<br/>No, it's not someone who's seen the light.<br/>It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hallelujah

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SketchLockwood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SketchLockwood/gifts).



> It's me, the angst queen! I'm back :p Hope you enjoy this! :)

Sleeping peacefully, the king seemed unaware of the worry he was causing us all. My Mother had refused to leave the room, no matter how much I persuaded her to. Uncle Richard, too, had joined in with my entreaties but with no avail and so she now stood at the edge of the room, too worried to be seated but far too exhausted to pace the room. Her pale, drawn face so unlike her usual beauty. The sight pained me to look at it and I quickly averted my eyes. It reminded me the inevitable. As I saw my mother rush over to my Father's bed, I knew what was the matter. I too had noticed him awaken...

"Can I get you anything, Edward?" She asked him, softly, her voice low and quiet. Not so quiet that I couldn't hear, however. 

Father gazed at her with unfocused, tired eyes and it seemed he hadn't heard her as he made no attempt to respond to her. Elizabeth blinked, confused and she almost repeated her question when he finally answered her. 

"My... mother, I want to see my mother." He told her, slowly and with great difficulty. His voice was almost inaudible and it was difficult to hear him. Mother had to lean forward slightly in order to. I saw the reaction his request caused as my mother looked even paler than before. 

Within moments, however, she nodded before leaving the room. Her actions seemed almost mechanical but I knew why. Her dislike for the Duchess had never been hidden and even I knew no comfort would come from her for my mother. The thought brought sudden, unwanted tears to my eyes. As much as I wanted to cry (and I truly did), I needed to stay strong. 

Blinking away any signs of tears, I focused on the figure in the bed. Father looked pale, exhausted and so unlike the tower of strength I had always known him to be. Nevertheless, he tried to smile. His cracked lips edged their way up and even though, he looked as if he was grimacing, I tried to smile too. It was a vain attempt as an urge to cry overcame me and it took all my strength not to. Quickly, I looked for a distraction. Any distraction.

"Drink this, Father." I held out the drink to him, forgetting he would need help to hold the cup. 

He shook his head stubbornly at me and I knew it was futile to ask again. After all, he is the king. As I turned to replace the cup on the table, he took a hold of my hand. It was an action he'd done many times since he'd become ill. This time, however, his hand felt cold beneath my warm one. Instinctively, I started rubbing his as if to warm it up. 

Mother returned with the Duchess moments later, my hand still very much in my Father's. The Duchess looked similar to my Mother, which I noticed as she greeted me. Instead of a warm smile, she merely gave me the briefest of nods. Focusing her attention on her son, however, her lips trembled at the sight of him. She took his free hand within her own and clung to it. 

"I'm here, my son. I'm here." She whispered to him, quickly.

The desperation in her voice was not something I had ever heard before and so I couldn't help but gaze at them in interest. Apart of me told me to look away, to give them the privacy they deserved as Mother and son but I couldn't bear to look away. The fear that if I did look away my Father would be worse had become too overwhelming to ignore. I half expected Father to drop his grip on my hand at the sight of his mother but if anything, he held on tighter.

" You are..... I gave him every chance, Mother. Every chance. Each time, he abused my trust!" The king tried to sound angry as he spoke of my Uncle yet he didn't succeed. His weariness filled every word and so he sounded utterly exhausted. I almost wanted to tell him to stop talking but I knew I couldn't. 

I heard the Duchess take in a sharp intake of breath at his words and I waited patiently for her reason. I did hope, however, that she wouldn't say anything to upset him. Mother stayed quiet during the exchange but I knew her attention would be caught, just like mine was. When the Duchess answered her son, her words were calm and measured.

"You did what you thought was right, Edward. I will not argue with that." My Father's eyes widened as he heard his Mother's words and it panicked me. I didn't want him getting worked up. It seemed that's exactly what was going to happen. 

His grip on my hand tightened even more and I even found myself wincing as a result of it. He dropped my hand quickly as he heard. The look on his face a mixture of fury at the Duchess and regret at hurting me. 

"I am king, madam. You cannot argue." Once again he sounded weary but the angry was still there. I heard Mother's frenzied footsteps as she once again moved to his bedside. She hoovered slightly as she waited for the Duchess to respond. She didn't immediately as she stood gazing at her son. Her expression showed just how surprised she felt. 

Despite myself, I felt angry. Why had my Father's words proved to be such a shock to her? After all, his feelings over his brother's treason had not changed and it had been the source of unhappiness for them for years. It seemed almost unfair of her to carry on the subject. I almost wanted to scold her as she had done so when I had been little. It seemed, however, it was unnecessary as Will, dear Will made his way to the king. His footsteps were hurried and quick and I knew he was agitated even before I saw the crestfallen look on his weary face. 

Upon spotting the Duchess, Will bowed low. It was one of the things I loved about him. No matter the situation, he always showed deference to my grandmother. Normally, a polite smile would accompany his bow but this time, it was missing. His face looked almost odd without it. 

"You wanted to see me, your grace?" His voice was uncertain. Father, at the sight of him, had tried to sit up in his bed. I'd reached out to help him but Father, being the stubborn king he was, had brushed my hand away from him impatiently. I couldn't blame him, no matter how hurt I felt. He looked even more exhausted than before and as I saw him slump back on his pillows, the sight made me want to cry. 

In the end, he settled for a nod. A rather soft one at that. Will took the space the Duchess gave up as she slowly left the room. She tried desperately to hide the tears that had started down her lined cheeks. To my surprise, my mother soon followed. Her footsteps hurried and loud. I wondered if she was going to follow her.

"I did. I need to ask something of you, my friend." His voice broke slightly as he addressed his friend. The affection he felt for him obvious to me. Will nodded at his words instantly before taking the chair next to the bed. He barely noticed my presence as he focused solely on my Father. 

A lump formed in the back of my throat as I noticed Will pick up my Father's hand. It showed just how close they were. No-one else would ever have had the nerve to do something so bold....

"Anything. Anything at all." Will's response seemed to fly from him easily, as if he didn't even need to think about it. My Father let out a sigh and for some reason, I didn't think it down to his weariness. 

For a few moments, Father merely gazed at his friend. It was a hard, unforgiving stare as his eyes never left Will's. It took me a few moments to realise Father seemed to be deep in thought. He seemed to be so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't respond. When he finally did, his tone was serious.

"You need to trust Elizabeth. When I'm gone... you'll need to support her. She will need your loyalty. You can't keep demanding proof from her." The words shouldn't have shocked me as they did but I couldn't help but react to them. The thought of Father no longer being around, let alone king, filled me with horror. Everything I had grown up with would be gone and so would he.... 

Large, sudden tears blinded my gaze momentarily and it took a few seconds for them to clear. They quickly rolled down my cheeks, without giving me any chance of stopping them. I turned away slightly from them as I tried to stop them noticing. I must have been too slow as Father once again took a hold of my hand. As Will answered him, he stroked the palm of my hand softly, I almost wanted to cry again. The action was so tender.

"I understand," Will answered him, soberly, not at all sounding like his cheery, happy self. I could hardly blame him, however.

Father looked relieved and for the first time since his friend had entered the room, he looked calm. It made me wish Will had come sooner, if only for my Father's sake. Silence descended on to the room again and I desperately wanted it broken again. Silence gave way to gloomy thoughts, ones I had been trying hard not to think of. I willed myself to speak but chatter escaped me and I couldn't think of anything to talk to them about. 

As if Father could sense my unhappiness, he spoke again. I listened intently but ended up wishing desperately that I hadn't. I felt my heart sink as I heard them.

"I need you to fetch Jane. I need to speak to her. To explain. Can you do that for me?" Father sounded almost desperate. I have never seen him so desperate to speak to someone. Not even my Mother. As much as the thought should have shocked me, it didn't. I had long realised my Father's "love" for his mistress was something I would never understand, even if I tried to.

Unsurprisingly, Will agreed quickly, standing up as he had spoken as if to save himself time. Both Father and I had watched him go intently but for different reasons. I knew my Father wouldn't be able to rest without seeing that woman but it didn't mean I had to like her. As she arrived, I felt my dislike for her grow. I couldn't stop it. My Father looked almost happy at the sight of her. His lips were upturned into a small, almost tiny smile. If it wasn't for the sweating and his tiredness, he would have looked similar to usual. 

Jane, too, smiled. I marvelled at her as she did. How could she look like that? Apart from the worry in her eyes and the dark circles surrounding her eyes, she barely looked any different to the last time I'd seen her. As she gazed at my Father, it seemed once again my presence wasn't noticed. Jane soon took the seat that had been occupied by Will and took Father's free hand. 

"Oh Jane my love." 

Jane smiled prettily at the endearment and I hated her for it. I wanted to put my hands around her pale neck and squeeze the life out of her. Why couldn't it be my mother next to Father, being addressed like that? It seemed so unfair and so unjust. Did she not realise just how much she had hurt my Mother with her actions? Flaunting herself throughout all court events like the wanton woman she is. My grip on Father's hand unconsciously tightened but Father didn't wince. Did he realise what had caused such a reaction? It seemed so as his next words talked of their relationship. 

"I have muddied your name, Jane. My darling Jane. You're infamous now and it's all because I fell in love with you and dared to do something about it." His voice was soft but I knew it was more out of affection for the harlot than his illness. Unchristian thoughts rushed through me as I listened to him and I wanted to stop. I needed to. I didn't want to be listening to them speak. Especially, not like this. 

I dropped Father's hand moments later when it finally became too much for me. I felt Jane's gaze on me as I left the room and so as a result, I made a conscious effort not to rush as I didn't want to give her any satisfaction. As much as it tore me apart to leave his side, I knew no harm would come to him, not with her near him. Time seemed to stop entirely as I waited outside the room. The fear Father would worsen made me return to his side sooner than I intended. 

"Father?" With his eyes closed, Father looked peaceful. Almost peaceful.... and I couldn't help but try and awaken him. I had to know he was still with us. As I did, I noticed Jane was no longer in the room. How I hadn't noticed her leave, I didn't know. 

Father opened his eyes as my quiet words and he reached out towards me with both hands. I retook my seat next to him and let him grasp my hands. A shudder ran through me as I felt just how cold was. Once again, I found myself rubbing his hands in an attempt to warm them up. 

"I wasn't asleep, Beth. Just resting my eyes." He explained to me, lightly, as if he hadn't scared me half to death. 

It was something he'd told both Mother and I countless times in the past. Every time, of course, he ended inevitably falling asleep, especially, as he had grown older. More frequently, I'd catch him 'resting his eyes' only to hear him snoring lightly seconds later. Whenever I found him like it, I never woke him up but simply tried to make him comfortable. 

"If you say so, your grace." I quipped to him, trying to make my voice sound as light as it could. 

Father smiled at my response but he soon was talking once more. I knew exactly what he was going to tell me. Still, I let him tell me, anyway. There was a smile on his face as he talked and the sight of it made one almost come to my face too. I would have smiled if I hadn't have felt so dreadful.

"Father, Beth. It's always Father. 'Your grace' sounds too formal." He was right, of course but I didn't respond. I felt weary, unhappy and the desire to flee the room. Caring for him had finally took its toll on me. 

I nodded to him in order to pacify him. As his hands finally began to warm up as he grasped my own, my eyes began to close. I couldn't stop them. For three long, exhausting nights, I'd stayed awake in case Father needed anything. The physicians, as knowledgeable as they were, had not filled me with reassurance about his care. I had made the foolhardy decision to become Father's nurse.....

Jerking awake in my chair, I was faintly aware of the voice in the room. I opened my eyes to see Uncle Richard sitting across from me. Father hadn't given up on his grip of my hands as they were still very much in his own. 

"Do you remember when you used to hide in my bed because you thought George had put spiders in yours?" My Father sounded as if he was talking of yesterday, not years past. I wondered if that's what he felt about it. Perhaps, that's how it seemed. Uncle Richard nodded to him but on his face, there was no smile. His mouth was in a grim line. It seemed appropriate.

I could picture Father as a young man and the thought made me feel even worse. Why couldn't he get to see my brothers grow? Would they remember him in the future? My heart thudded so erratically in my chest at the mere thought that I felt sick. The tears I had gotten rid of came back to me and I wanted nothing more to sob. I didn't care that Uncle Richard was in the room. I barely noticed Richard's response. I was too caught up in my thoughts to think of anything else.

I did, however, hear Father's next words. He sounded sad. 

"We were all so close. How times have changed, Dickon." I knew he was thinking of Uncle George and Edmund. It was the only reason for the sudden change of mood. I could understand why he was thinking of them. Instinctively, I gave his hands a squeeze. I wanted to remind I was still there. 

Upon seeing I was awake, Father turned to look at me. He looked even worse than before and it made me want to fetch my Mother. I felt she needed to be here. As I tried to tell Father where I was going, he became reluctant for me to go. He shook his head violently and his grip on me became as tight as a vice.

"No. Don't go." I couldn't bear to even move away from him. Not even a little. He sounded so unbelievably tired. 

I squeezed his hand and forced myself to smile. It was all I could to stop myself from beginning to cry. The love in his gaze proved to be my undoing as my emotions finally became my undoing. The despair I'd kept hidden finally broke free and within moments, uncontrollable sobs were coming from me. Tears were streaming down my face, without any interruption from me. I didn't see any reason to hide them. Uncle Richard wouldn't judge me and neither would Father. 

"Beth, stop that. I am not gone yet." He reached over slightly to brush my tears away before he cupped my cheek. His hand now felt icy and it made me want to continue crying. Why couldn't he let me cry? 

I shook my head at him, unable to talk. When I did finally talk, my voice was broken and full of emotion. 

"I don't want you to go, though." I couldn't help but be honest. I had never been one to lie, especially, when upset. Father tried to smile at me. His lips began to turn upwards but his own feelings betrayed him as his eyes filled with tears. In my surprise, I tried to stop myself from crying further. 

I had never before seen my strong, courageous Father so close to crying. The sight shocked me and within moments, I'd stopped crying. I was gazing at him dry-eyed and unsure of what to say. In the end, he beat me to it. My heart breaking as he talked.

"I don't want to go either but it seems my time is up, my dear daughter and who am I to argue with the gods?" His tear filled eyes seemed lifeless and I felt like shaking him. Where was my stubborn Father? 

As my Father's life seemed to ebb away from him, it seemed my stubborn Father had lost his fight. I watched helplessly, fighting back my tears as he closed his eyes for the very last time. It was a peaceful end but it seemed an appropriate one too. After all, my Father's life had been plagued by battle after battle. Finally, he had peace.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment? :)


End file.
